


All The Things

by fizzyspines



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Awkwardness, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sniper is a little awkward, Speeding Bullet (Team Fortress 2)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28508055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzyspines/pseuds/fizzyspines
Summary: Scout hangs out with Sniper. Sniper contemplates some of the things he loves about him.
Relationships: Scout/Sniper (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 63





	All The Things

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fluffy, cheesy, silly, kinda lame, kinda OOC Speeding Bullet thing I had to get out of my head. I'll skeddaddle now. See ya!
> 
> PS: It's also unbeta'd. We die like fools here

To many, Sniper isn't the most fun to hang around. In fact he doesn't care about making any particular effort to be entertaining. He simply likes to just be, in peace, go with the flow, and sit quietly while all his teammates were busy being as loud as humanly possible. On some days, outside of the contracted battles, the reclusive Australian welcomed the deafening background noise. Joined, even, if he really felt like mingling and it didn’t take an enormous mental toll on him. On other days, (which is to say, _most of the days_ ) he preferred the calm stillness the badlands of New Mexico had to offer. When the light hit them at a certain angle, they shone in bright oranges and reds against the blue sky, and reminded him of the Australian outback. Having been raised in the bush, he never feels any particular homesickness looking at it all. Instead, it brings him some sort of agreeable comfort. 

It was one of those days. A Saturday, not that it meant anything else other than all of them being off the clock, and thus vacating to their end-of-the week occupations. To take the fresh air and view in, Sniper has taken up the habit to clean his rifle and loadout while seated at the top of his camper. He could see anyone coming and going around this side of the base from his perch. 

Earlier, Soldier was helping Pyro practice airblasting by chucking a couple of medium-sized rocks at him, until Medic had gone out and yelled at them for the mess they were causing. 

Then, for a few hours, no one else had stepped outside. 

Until, that is, one of the doors carefully opens. Sniper has learnt to pay attention to anything around him, even at a distance, so he catches the sound immediately. His fingers reach for the binoculars set beside him, and he takes them to his eyes. The newly opened door lets Scout out, which prompts Sniper to smile slightly. The younger man is clad in the usual hoodie and sweatpants he wears when he's about to run laps around the base in order to spend some of that considerable pent up energy of his. 

So, it comes to a surprise when he realises that, after looking around, Scout guns for his van. His strides are long, steady, and graceful; something Sniper has witnessed many times before that still manages to amaze him. 

A couple of things about Scout amaze him, really. 

Soon enough, the Bostonian comes to a stop near the camper. 

"Snipes!" he calls out, and Sniper peeks from the edge of the roof. 

"Yeah?" 

"Mind if I hang out with you?" 

The older man raises his eyebrows. " 'Course not. Ye don't have ta ask." 

First thing, Scout wants to spend time with him. Willingly. He goes out of his way to seek him out, even when he's off the base entirely. That's how they got to hang out more and more. And also how they ended up together, after a while. 

"C'mon. You're not Spy or Medic, I always ask you before I bug you." 

"Ye never bug me," is all the Australian replies to it. 

"I know." 

The ladder at the back of the camper creaks lightly under Scout's weight. He climbs on top, and makes his way towards the other mercenary. Instead of talking, he simply observes Sniper's careful movements as the latter handles each part of his rifle for thorough cleaning. He's seen Sniper do this stuff many, many times before, he doesn't need to ask anymore. 

Second thing. Scout could actually remain silent, and what's more, he could appreciate the silence, if he put his mind to it. The rest of the team would sometimes refer to him jokingly as a loud, fast nuisance incapable of sitting in one place, but the fact of the matter is, Scout is able to be still for more than a couple of minutes. 

And Sniper takes pride in being the only one to know about that. 

Despite this, he knows that the other is also putting a lot of focus into not starting a long, drawn out diatribe about whatever goes through his mind at the present moment, but truth be told, Sniper wouldn't mind a little conversation. 

It doesn't happen. 

To trump the restlessness that wells up inside him, Scout places a hand inside the front pocket of his hoodie to take out his sketching pad and a pencil. 

That's another thing. Scout draws. And he's pretty wicked amazing at it. 

This time, Sniper's interest is piqued, just enough for him to briefly stop his activity. "What're ye gonna draw, Roo?" he asks the younger man. 

"Hmmm..." Scout peers at the horizon, a very unusual serious, poised look on his face, pencil held against his lips as he thinks, "Dunno yet. I'll see." 

To that, the Australian nods, before going back to his work. There's plenty of beautiful landscape around to sketch out, he figures, nice rock formations, here and there, he knows jack shit about art but even his untrained eye can see beauty in some of the shapes. On rare occasions, he had already found Scout deep in concentration to catch every last detail of the scenery in front of him on paper, then neatly tuck the drawing pad in his bag before running around and making a nuisance out of himself again. 

Sniper loves his landscape drawings. They carry a softness to them that Scout doesn't allow himself to show the others. 

His figure drawings, however, are Sniper's favourite. They reflect the boy's more vibrant, provocative side that made all his charm -according to him, at least. Scout had his own bold style, probably one that would make Applied Arts teachers turn their noses in contempt, and that's too bad for them. _Buncha wankers,_ Sniper thinks. 

And since Scout only had a limited amount of models around, he would draw his coworkers all the time. When they were busy, when they were relaxing. Even when they jokingly asked Scout to draw them, and he'd flip them off, disgruntled, call them a name or two (except when it was Engineer asking), he would do it anyway.

All, except one. 

Sniper, each time he's looked through the many sketchbooks, never saw a single drawing of himself. 

He'd see some fun self portraits, a quantity of sketches trying to capture the Engineer's expressions while he's working on his contraptions, doodles of Medic's doves in various states, of Demo, Soldier and Heavy playing cards, of Pyro handling his Flame Thrower, even actual, non crude drawings of Spy, probably while he wasn't looking. 

_'He's a shapeshiftin' rat, maybe, but his profile view and silhouette are very good, it makes me mad,' Scout had admitted when Sniper had paused on those drawings with a puzzled look._

Sniper doesn't ask any questions. Not his style. Scout might have his reasons to never draw him. Maybe he'll tell them on his own. 

The older man gets surprised for the second time in the hour as he turns towards his companion to sneak a peek at what he's drawing. Scout has changed positions; he's now lying flat on his stomach, legs kicking a bit, and he's facing Sniper with his sketch pad laid out on the roof. 

"Ah, no, don't move," Scout lets out, "I was just getting the angle right," 

"Oh, sorry," 

"Get back to what you were doing, or I'm gonna hafta start again." 

Sniper obeys, and focuses back on his rifle. 

"Yes, okay, perfect." Scout says, "Thanks. You always stay so still, I wonder how y'can do that." 

The Australian isn't sure if he can reply to this. 

"Already sketched your mouth, dummy. You can talk."

"And blink?"

Scout scoffs. He shifts a little to relieve some pressure on his arm. 

"I don't know," Sniper answers the previous remark about his immobility, "Comes with the job, I s'ppose." 

"Fair. I guess our lines of expertise are very different. I have t'constantly be on the move." 

"Ye call running an 'expertise'?" Sniper teases, trying not to break his pose too much as he chuckles. 

Scout narrows his eyes at him. "Name any of you guys that can match my cruisin' speed. Go ahead! I'll wait." 

"A'ight. Ye got me." 

"See? I'm great at running, and it takes a lot of training too." 

"I can believe." 

They both fall silent. Only the slight breeze and the sound of Scout's pencil gliding smoothly against the paper can be heard for a while, during which Sniper contemplates deeply on what is happening. 

"The others are always telling things about how you creep’em out sometimes, standing still like that and all," Scout breaks the silence, “Even creepier’n Spy’s… whole… deal, or whatever.” he frowns. 

This isn't exactly news to Sniper. He gets told that often, but more as a passing remark rather than an actual insult, "What about ye, Roo? D'ye find it creepy?" 

"At the beginning, I guess," he confesses, "but now it's one of my favourite things 'bout you. Makes ya way more easy to draw than the rest of th’guys, for one. Like a statue o' some kind. Y'know. The kinda borin', but kinda cool stuff in museums." 

_Hang on. What?_

Sniper doesn't have the time to bounce off what was just said. The younger man pushes himself into a sitting position, drawing pad between his hands. 

"All done. Want to see?" Scout asks, some pink dusting his cheeks. 

"Yes. I would love ta." Sniper lets go of his rifle and holds out his hand to receive the pad. 

With some hesitation, Scout finally gives to him. As expected, it's a breathtakingly detailed drawing of him, in varying shades of grey that picture the light caught in the sharp features of his face. The cross hatching looks a little rushed, but with the same precision he'd already witnessed in all of Scout's realisations. And Sniper is all about precision. He pauses to observe, fascinated and puzzled at the same time. His expression barely changes, which starts to worry the younger mercenary. 

"You don't like it?" 

It brings him out of his daze.

"Huh- no. No, I love it, Roo. Honest, I love it. It looks fantastic. It's just-" 

"Just what?" 

Sniper tips his hat, then he continues. "I got a bit surprised. Ye never drawn me before."

This makes Scout frown. Not in anger at what could be constituted as a reproach if he didn't know Sniper better, but in confusion. Sniper snaps his gaze to him. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. He's arguably better with bullets than with words. 

"What are you talkin' about, I draw you all the time," Scout finally lets out with an amused smirk, despite blushing like crazy. 

His fingers grab the previous page and flip it into place so that Sniper can see. This definitely catches him off guard, as it is completely covered with sketches of him from various angles. A particular one of him holding the newspapers indicates that the bunch dates from the day before, after the series of matches. They start so early, Sniper never has the time to read the news in the morning during the week. 

He points at the pad. "Can I...?" 

Scout nods, face red. "Yeah." He's breathless.

Sniper examines the thing. Upon closer inspection, this is not Scout's usual drawing book. This one seems special. For the simple reason it is filled _exclusively_ with drawings of himself. Drawings he's never laid his eyes on. Each is made with the same level of care as the latest one. 

"I draw you so much, in fact, that I asked Engie t'get me an entirely different sketchbook when he went to Teufort for provisions last month, I think it was," Scout adds, voice low, almost mumbling. "You just never notice, I guess," 

That must be it. Sniper has no recollection of any of these. A comfortable warmth rises up in his chest. Relief? It's a silly little thing, really.

"Ah, dang, this is creepy, I shoulda not shown you, that's why I was keepin' it a secret, ya must think I'm weird now," the Bostonian blurts out, and tries to reclaim his sketching pad.

Sniper keeps it out of reach. He fixes his stare on Scout. The latter looks wide-eyed at him. They observe each other for a moment, during which the younger man grows visibly more embarrassed.

"I love you." Sniper finally tells him. 

Scout's face is as red as his hoodie by now. He's hiding it with his hands. "Awh, Snipes, man, c'mon man, you know I can't handle it when y'do that, so unfair," 

His boyfriend snorts. "Yer so cute, y'know? Ye were the one to ask me out, and ye still look as if we'd only started datin'," 

Scout manages to retrieve the sketchbook. He holds it close to himself. "And you're a dick. You're lucky that I love you too." 

Sniper doesn't grant him a verbal response. He kisses him, just like that, and the other reciprocates. 

It's his favourite thing. Scout loves him, and it's that easy. 


End file.
